by Matt Rogers
Chapter 3
During movies when the hero of the story has been unconscious for some time he generally wakes to see a beautiful woman waiting dutifully by his side.
DID YOU?
Nope, I got George.
“Don’t move” he said.
“Ouch!”
I’d moved. I was never good at abiding orders and I think it might be a biological defect because I’ve been doing it my whole life and getting the same horrible results as a consequence.
“Don’t touch the stove.”
“Ouch!”
“Don’t blow in the dog’s face.”
“Ouch!”
“Don’t call the cop a pig.”
“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!”
I realized I was lying on a bed in a room decorated the astonishing color of white. Everything was white; the ceiling, the walls, the sheets. Even the telephone on the white nightstand was white. It was like lying within a cloud or on top of a marshmallow surrounded by snow or what Hollywood says Heaven is like.
‘Oh crap! I’m dead.’
I thought before realizing there’s no way I’m getting into Heaven on the first shot. Purgatory maybe, but definitely not the eternal day-spa of dreams. I must’ve done something to annoy Too-Tall George because he suddenly grunted, rose from the white chair he’d been engulfing with his enormous backside and opened the door.
“He’s awake”.
Pretty-Secretary-Lady came in and sat down on the white chair. I could almost hear its sigh of relief at the reduced load.
“Hello, Mr. Johnson, my name is Trudy and I’m very sorry about everything which has happened to you today.”
“Call me Johnny.”
“Okay, Johnny. I think it’s time we had a little chat.”
“About what?”
“About what you are.”
“What I am?”
“Yes.”
“What am I?”
“You’re a Cloak.”
“I’m a Cloak?”
“Yes. Do you know what a Cloak is?”
“I’m assuming you don’t mean a shoulder covering.”
“No, I don’t mean a shoulder covering.”
“Then no, I don’t know what a Cloak is. I also don’t know why my co-workers got shot, why I was being blamed for it or why I was about to be killed and, I guess, eaten by your friends out there!”
“I’m very sorry but they didn’t know who you were.”
“What are you talking about, lady?”
“The Super-natural.”
“The what?”
“The Super-natural. We’re Vampire’s, Johnny. Well, technically, Vivian and I are Vampires. George, Phillip, and Peter are what you’d call Werewolves. Hmm, I guess Peter’s not anymore because of what happened.”
I would’ve enjoyed seeing my expression then; I’ll bet you could’ve fit a watermelon in my mouth considering how far my jaw must’ve dropped.
“I know you must think this is insane” she said.
“Are you a telepath too?”
“No. Why?”
“Because that’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Okay, I expected this kind of reaction so I’m going to show you something which might help you grasp what I’m talking about.”
“Lady, you could turn yourself into a giant bat and I’m not…”
She wasn’t there. She was there one second and the next, nothing, just her dress sitting upright in the same prim and proper way sans body.
“Johnny?”
I had a little heart attack right then. The voice came from the place her mouth would’ve been had she actually been present but, as it was, I was looking at a talking dress.
“What’s going on?” I screamed.
“Calm down, Johnny.”
“Calm down! Heck no, I’m out of here!”
And I tried to get up, almost succeeded too, except my right hand was cuffed to the bed’s handrail.
“What the…? Let me go you crazy…!”
And she reappeared, causing me another minor heart attack with the added benefit of finding myself sprawled on the floor at the right side of the bed where I’d so elegantly vaulted myself when the magically disappearing Vampire decided to grace me with her presence again.
“Jesus…!”
“Johnny, please try and calm yourself.”
“Okay, okay, I’m calm. Just let me get back in the bed. Can you give me a hand?”
“No, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Why not?” I asked as I deftly climbed over the stupid security handrails to again take my place of confinement in the most insane property management company on the planet.
“Because I promised Phillip I wouldn’t let you near me until after the bloodletting.”
“Who the heck is…? Hold on. After the what?”
“After the bloodletting.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
“Don’t worry, it isn’t dangerous.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not. With a name like bloodletting I bet it’s a hoot. ‘Hey Johnny, what’re you doing this weekend? Oh, I’m going to watch the game, grab a bite to eat, maybe get a little bloodletting, how about you?’”
“Don’t be sarcastic.”
“I’m not being sarcastic. Okay, maybe a little but you’ve got to admit I deserve a little leeway here.”
“Yes, you do; it’s why I’m here to answer any questions you might have.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay. How do I get out of this?”
“You die.”
“Okay, different question. You said Vivian and you were Vampires?”
“Yes.”
“Like real Vampires? The kind who sucks people’s blood?”
“Well, yes and no. Like any stereotyped group there’s usually a small amount of truth involved.”
“How small?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, can you turn into a bat?”
“No.”
“Can you turn into smoke?”
“No.”
“Can you see yourself in the mirror?”
“When we want to” she said with a wry smile.
“Do you drink people’s blood?”
“When we need to.”
She looked a little sad at the revelation and I had the sinking suspicion I knew why. I didn’t want to ask, I thought I already knew the answer but, like the proverbial cat, I had to know.
“Are you going to drink my blood?”
“Yes.”
Crap.
The room was completely white because, apparently, my blood was darn valuable to those people; or Vampires, or Werewolves, or psychopathic killers, name your pick. They literally did not want to miss one drop. They still had me handcuffed to the bed but by then I was completely naked under the white sheet on the white bed in the white room where Dr. Frankenstein and her merry band of people-leeches were prepping me for their Human-Slurpee-sucking contest.
“Is this going to hurt?”
“Not one bit” replied Trudy and for some reason I believed her. I don’t know what it is about red-heads with green eyes but I really want to find out.
FIND OUT WHAT?
Like I said, I don’t know. So anyway I asked…
“Am I going to die?”
… and she answered…
“I hope not.”
… which I think might’ve been the worst pep-talk ever.
“By the way, you never answered my question. Who’s Phillip?” I asked.
“He’s Phillip” she said indicating with a nod the huge face of Security-Guard-Guy peering down from above holding a gas mask he lowered over my mouth and nose.
“Pleased to meet you” he said.
And blackness overwhelmed me.
I awoke in the same room feeling remarkably good. It was as if I’d gone to bed early on a Saturday night and woke not to the sound of an alarm clock but
to my own internal one when it said ‘Enough is enough, you’ve had plenty of rest, now get out there and take on the world’. I sat up wincing until I realized I was in no pain whatsoever. Seriously, my nose didn’t hurt where it’d been smashed into the ground three times, my stomach didn’t hurt where Phillip had given me a sucker punch and my neck didn’t hurt where Vivian and George had done whatever they’d done. I felt great! I felt like it was time to go take what was mine. Except I was still handcuffed to the bed. I wasn’t sure what to do next but thought I might use the old Johnny Johnson problem solving technique which worked so well in the past.
“Help!”
“It looks like old Sleeping Beauty’s awake” said George as he walked into the room.
I peered at him because I was confused. This was the same guy who’d roughed me up, locked me up and trussed me up as a human holiday-turkey only a short while before. I should’ve been terrified but I wasn’t, I actually felt a kinship toward him, something like friendship which was really weird considering the circumstances.
“Look, I think everything‘s okay but we need to make sure before we un-cuff you, okay?”
I nodded my head because I trusted him for some reason I couldn’t fathom. Right then the other three walked in and I felt complete. It was strange; as soon as all four of them were in the room it was as though a small shred of insecurity was lifted from my shoulders.
“Let’s go ahead and see” said Trudy.
She walked around to the right side of the bed with a set of keys, unlocked the handcuffs and stood back looking at me with those remarkable green eyes. I knew what they wanted so I swung my legs over the left side of the bed where there was no handrail, placed my feet on the floor and stood up as regally and mightily as the situation warranted.
“Whoa!”
“Hold on there!”
And felt a bit chilly where I shouldn’t have.
“Okay, let’s get some clothes in here for Johnny” said George.
“Sorry, sorry, my fault” replied Vivian as she went running from the room.
“You know, they really do keep these offices a bit chilly in the summertime. They probably think because it’s so hot outside everyone would appreciate the cold air but I think they overcompensate a tad too much; don’t you, Phillip?”
“Yes, George, I do. Why, just the other day I was telling the super he needed to turn the AC up a bit because studies show people’s metabolisms get out of whack when they go from hot to cold so fast.”
I think I heard Trudy giggle.
“Okay, here we go” Vivian said as she entered the room carrying a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt.
“Sorry about the new threads, Sweetie, but your old clothes were a bit disheveled so we threw them out” she said.
“It’s okay” I replied, and it was. Everything in the world was okay, even the embarrassment of my little impromptu peep-show was irrelevant because I truly felt whole for the first time in my life.
“Um.”
“Yes, Johnny?” George said.
“Do you want me to get dressed and do it again?”
“Oh. Well, actually I think you aced it the first time. I didn’t get any warnings; did you guys?”
“Nope” replied Vivian.
“Not a bit” replied Phillip.
“Nothing” replied Trudy.
“Okay, then I think we can all agree he passed; right?”
I was feeling a sense of elation I didn’t know existed.
“With flying colors” responded Trudy while Phillip and Vivian nodded in agreement.
“Welcome to the Family, Johnny.”
And I couldn’t help myself as I stood with tears running down my cheeks at the sheer joy of being part of something bigger than myself, holding my arms wide to embrace my new brothers and sisters in a whole-hearted hug from the deepest recesses of my being.
“Hey!”
“Ho!”
“Clothes, Johnny, clothes.”
